


Cliché

by Varil_Lara



Category: Monster Factory - Polygon (Web Series)
Genre: About this whole thing that is, Angst?, F/F, M/M, Multi, Relationships are kinda minor, Revolution centric, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 15:03:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19008217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varil_Lara/pseuds/Varil_Lara
Summary: Revolution is invited to watch a film.(He wishes it were that simple)





	Cliché

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know nothing about Champions Online or Revolution. One of those was easily fixed by a quick google search, one was not. Sorry in advance.  
> Also, I tried a new writing style.

He’d dedicated his entire life to being a hero, to being ‘Revolution’. Years of training, starting from his childhood and driven by a deep passion, had been the first step. Second was the planning. Countless months he’d spent forging his ideas into perfect reality; how to make sure his true identity- which he hadn’t really used in years- was never compromised, how to make sure he was never too far from the action. When he’d finally made his debut appearance as a hero, when he’d picked his first fight with some thugs trying to rob the Millennium City Bank, he’d held himself with the confidence of a hero with far more experience- years more experience- than a twenty-something-year-old in a hooded cape. Inside he’d been burning, the intensity of everything he’d done rearing back in time with the fist of a thief, hitting him in the square in the face, giving him a taste of the world he’d chased after. When it had all been over, when he’d stood victorious, a crowd cheering his name, he understood for the first time just how much that world meant to him. It was one he never wanted to leave. One he never really would, and indeed hadn’t in all his years since that day.

He’d dedicated his entire life to being Revolution, so sitting back for a day and just being Tom Hart had proved to be difficult.

Knife Dad- Arthur Long, Dr Arthur Long- had asked him to watch a film at his house, something on DVD. His daughter was out of the house, at a cosplay event with her girlfriend, and he’d taken the opportunity to have him over. As himself. There had been the overt implication that he not wear his cape. Not that he didn’t bring it, which he’d appreciated. Even if he wasn’t as deeply into the hero life, Knife Dad- Dr Arthur Long- still understood that a hero could be needed at any second in a place like Millennium City. He still understood that Revolution needed to be there, even if other heroes would always respond. He was good at understanding. Part of him wondered if that was why he’d decided to team up with him the day they’d met. Maybe he knew it was time he himself be understood.

When Knife Dad- Arthur - had opened the door to him, he’d almost looked confused. He’d not worn his cape, instead opting for a simple pair of light jeans, nowhere near as light as the dad jeans he’d gotten used to seeing almost every day, and an old jumper. There’s been the initial panic that he wasn’t recognisable, that he seemed like a complete stranger, but then Arthur- finally-had simply asked if he wasn’t hot wearing all that before ushering him in. He was relieved that he was still clearly Revolution, at least to his partner, but he startled by how unfazed he’d had been by the change. Seeing Arthur without a hundred head accessories and his hair styled neatly back- wolf head, rabbit ears, goat legs, and all other animal parts somehow present but unnoticeable- had thrown him off. Nevertheless, he was still clearly the same person as Knife dad, more the same than Revolution and Tom Hart, and yet his change seemed more drastic. It almost seemed as if Arthur had gotten to know Tom without the latter’s knowledge. 

The sofa that he had been sat on was in a charming living room- pollen coloured walls with white stripes and borders and a matching carpet. There were books on every shelf- medical texts he found when he’d looked- only outnumbered by pictures of children, some he recognised, one he didn’t. Outside of all that, things related to various hobbies were strewn neatly about the place. Sheet music on the mantle, boxes of board games stacked under the television stand. He’d peaked into Knife Dad’s- Arthur’s, Arthur’s, Arthur’s- bedroom and seen cheque books and hair styling kits resting proudly on top of a wooden ottoman. He hadn’t known what he’d expected from a man who was part wolf, part rabbit, part dragon, part knife, part god knows what else, but he hadn’t been surprised. Maybe he should have been, but he’d learnt soon after meeting Arthur that his ideas about being a hero weren’t universal. Not every hero lived in a hideout with metal walls, and reinforced doors, and no trace of a life outside of fighting crime in sight. 

He’d waited patiently, listening to Arthur clatter around in the kitchen, preparing food to go with the film- popcorn coated in chocolate along with sweets he couldn’t recognise as being sold anymore. His initial reaction had been to turn down both. Being a hero took a lot more than simply donning a costume- and rarely ate anything outside of what aided with his training- still going on, even more fervently than in his younger days, it had to be- but a simple “Come on Tom,” had caused him to take a handful which he’d been nibbling at since the start of the film. Hearing his first name being used wasn’t something that had happened at all in the years before they met, and even after their meeting, it was still rare. Arthur had insisted that he be called ‘Arthur’ whenever possible. It’s what his friends called him, and the people he knew and worked with before encountering six vats of acid and a boy warlock, but to Revolution, being called ‘Tom’ was like being called by a nickname he hadn’t had since childhood. 

The film in question was a new one, or he assumed it was. It was an action or a thriller, full of excitement and crime; the hero a disgraced police officer. Everything was vaguely familiar. More than vaguely. The protagonist’s motivations, the people he dealt with, the mission at hand. Not exactly like the life he led, but enough to make him itch. The explosions on screen had caused him to squirm and shift in his seat, and by the end of it, he’d found himself pressed up against Arthur’s side. The credits rolled and he’d made to move away, but an arm was placed firmly over his shoulders whilst a hand gestured for him to grab the remote off the coffee table. Clearly, his tension had been obvious as they’d sat there flicking through channels until settling on something calmer; a light-hearted romantic comedy that hadn’t started yet, meaning they’d passed the time watching the end of some nature documentary Arthur said he’d have to go back too. 

They’d chatted lightly through the beginning of the new film, only mildly invested in the characters, until they’d run out of sweets and Arthur left to find more, the clattering in the kitchen starting up again. He was left alone with no one but the characters he wasn’t invested in, and then found himself very invested in. The film was indeed as light-hearted as it had advertised, yet he felt like there was something so much deeper and complex about it. The character’s and their relationships, and their dreams, and the lives they led caused something inside him to twist. By the time Arthur had come back into the room, he was crying. He appreciated the fact that no fuss was made. Instead, a box of tissues was handed to him whilst Arthur explained that his daughter and her girlfriend had decided to leave early and needed to be picked up. The film was left to play through.

Despite his better instinct, he opened the passenger side door of Arthur’s car; a bright family wagon. If either of them were surprised by this move, they didn’t show it. Knife Dad’s Gay Daughter- as was written across her chest in red and yellow- seemed to be at first, having never really met him before- not as Tom- but then she simply slid into the back seat along with her girlfriend-whose name he learned was Mëllisa on the drive to her house. When Mëllisa had gotten out, she stared at him in a way that made his chest clench, before politely waving goodbye in a way that made his chest clench even tighter. Her girlfriend had suddenly jumped out after her, exclaiming that she should stay with her the night, then in a lower tone that they should leave her father and his new boyfriend in peace. Mëllisa said something along the lines of her dad’s new boyfriend looking familiar, but the car had begun to pull back onto the street and he missed whatever followed. 

They arrived home much later than intended, Arthur having stopped at a supermarket whilst he sat in the car waiting. He hadn’t asked to go back to his hideout, dragging together all of his courage in order to stay silent. When they walked through the front door, he’d expected for to be handed blankets and left to the sofa, but instead another film was suggested, or in this case, a show by a comedian. When they sat back down, more snacks prepared, they were closer than the first time- closer that when the first film had ended- and it took him a while to realise there was no arm over his shoulder because he hadn’t moved away or even tried to. 

Now, after a while, he’s the only one left awake. The comedian’s show ends, a round of applause ringing out before the screen fades to black, white words reading “Programming continues at 5am, have a good night” spreading across it. He turns the television off, careful in his movements- perfectly mastered stealth- in order to not wake up the sleeping for beside him. The darkness consumes the room and he sits still, completely rigid, as his eye adjust. It’s nothing like his hideout, which has no windows and is submerged into total blackness when night falls, beams of light peaking out from under the curtain. It takes him a while, much longer than he’d like to think about and all the reasons why it took him so long, but he leans into Arthur completely, letting his eyes shut with little force.

When an alarm sound calling for heroes, he lets himself stay like that a second longer before getting up.

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended to be fluff, I don't think it can be called that anymore.  
> Anyway, I've been rewatching a lot of Monster Factory, or rather, listening to it whilst I sleep, which has made me want to write more for it. The fact that the best episodes to fall asleep to are Spore through to Champions Online, resulted in this.  
> I didn't mean for this to be Revolution centric, especially when I don't know anything about him, but it just sorta happened. I hope it's not too out of character (?)


End file.
